Someday
by SassierTableCloth
Summary: Iris witnesses the execution of her sister, and then comes to a realization.


It was a day she prayed would never come, but she would be dishonest in saying she did not expect it soon.

The walls of the eerie room may have been white at some point, but the paint was gradually peeling off from bottom to top, revealing the walls' stone dermis. No windows were present for the allowance of light. The only illumination in the claustrophobia-inducing space was a light bulb dangling haphazardly from the ceiling, whose paint also wore off.

The room was split in half by a surprisingly clean glass pane that went from ceiling to floor. Iris stood to the right of the barrier, accompanied by a few other people, namely stone-faced guards.

Her side was chilling.

But the side opposite was bloodcurdling.

The side opposite contained two wooden posts supporting a crossbeam from which a noose dangled.

Of course.

The gallows.

She knew her sister was to be hanged.

She knew what she should expect to see.

So _why_, then, was it so hard to look?

Her sister stood on the other side, a tranquil smile gracing her features.

Prison had obviously left its thumbprint upon her, but she still smiled serenely.

Her smile was peaceful. _Surreal_, almost.

Time passed in a dazed blur for the dark-haired shrine maiden, and soon the guards were about to carry out capital punishment.

The noose was placed around Dahlia's slender neck, and even then, the criminal would not stop _smiling_.

At that moment, Iris firmly shut her eyes, incapable and unwilling to witness the sight before her.

But she _had _to look, she had to, because this _was_, in a way, _her _fault.

Had she been more persistent on discouraging her sister away from committing these vile deeds, maybe, just maybe, Dahlia would've given in to her unrelenting pleas and stopped.

Maybe Dahlia would have stopped in her tracks. Maybe Iris would've had her darling sister back.

But she didn't stop Dahlia, did she, and it was her penalty to have to see the already faint light fading from her sister's auburn eyes.

The rope tightened.

Dahlia did not put much effort into struggling.

She left with a breathless smile on her face.

Her fingers relaxed.

A feeling of anesthetizing melancholy overtook Iris.

Different thoughts ran through her mind, some of remorse and some of deep bitterness and some of memories of a kind Dahlia long gone, so many thoughts that she was left immobile.

A few moments of vulnerable immobility until she was awaken from her stupor by an officer's rough, scratchy voice.

"Sorry," he blandly said.

And Iris longed to tell him that _no_, he was _not _sorry, because he didn't know Dahlia. He didn't know _Dahlia_. He saw her as merely another shameful criminal to be executed and no more. He didn't know the girl that Iris had known as a child.

But no words came out, as she was too choked up to speak, and even if she was capable, she wouldn't have said anything, thanks to her instilled politeness.

She gathered up the resolve to push herself out of the execution site and away from the prison. A few moments later, she would appreciate this decision, for as soon as she was four steps away from the confines of the imprisonment unit, she burst into tears.

And she ran.

She ran, oblivious to whoever may have seen her in this frail state.

She let her legs lead her to where they would, and she eventually reached a seemingly forsaken water fountain.

She seated herself on the slightly damp tip of the fountain, and let herself drift deep into ponder.

During their younger days, Iris had always looked up to Dahlia, and, even though their births were sole minutes apart, she idolized her sister and admired the clever, strong person she was.

She had agreed to participate in the damned kidnap, the _fake_ kidnap, whatever it was called, only because she _trusted _her sister to do the right thing.

Trusting Dahlia back then was obviously a terrible course of action to take.

To see how far Dahlia had steered off direction, falling into the world of felony, pained her.

Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she stopped them in their course by stubbornly rubbing them off before they could drip down her chin.

She recalled betraying her sister, trembling away from the plan they had put together in a fit of cowardice and conscience.

At the reminiscence, thoughts of various origins fluttered through her mind.

_If I hadn't been so spineless… would things have changed?_

_Dollie, is this all my fault?_

_Oh, Dahlia, _why _did you deceive them? Terry and Valerie were helping you!_

_If I would have gotten that necklace back…_

The mere reason why Iris would do such a thing as impersonate her sister, fooling Phoenix, was so that she could prevent yet another sin from blemishing her sister's soul.

She prayed that the true Dahlia, that adoring, strong individual that she was, was still there, somewhere, even through all the bitterness and hostility. Even though everyone said her sister didn't deserve a second chance, Iris could find it in her, after some time, to forgive her.

She hoped that someday she might see the Dahlia she used to know, not some cold-blooded murder. Dollie had to be alive, even if she was a shivering candle light in the midst of utter darkness. This drove her to asking her departed sister the inevitable question:

_Where _are _you, Dollie? I _know_ you're still there. I know my sister will always be there. Just… please, give me a sign that you're the same person I knew when we were young. Anything..._

At that moment, a fresh package of tears wet the paths the older ones had stained.

She wiped them off with the back of her hand and tried to stop herself from weeping but to no avail; the tears always found a route to slip out of her wet, heavy eyes.

_I could have stopped her! I could have stopped her from committing all those foul deeds, but I didn't…_

… _I'll never forgive myself…_

At that instant, she could have sworn she heard her sister's faint voice, whispering along with the fresh breeze that had just washed over:

_Let it go…_

"But I can't…!" Iris whispered in a soft voice, so secret it was worthless.

_You have to… Goodbye…_

Iris took a deep breath. The wind gently blew her tears off.

With that, she had her reassurance.

She still felt indescribable grief engulf her, but knew she had to move on.

_We'll meet again, Dahlia..._

_Someday._


End file.
